The Slightest Glimmer
by sky tulips
Summary: Which is easier? Extinguishing the dynamite or letting it explode? Which is harder? Forgetting or remembering? Suddenly Gokudera isn't so sure. Light 5927 - Gokudera/Tsuna. Spoilers for the TYL arc.


_The Slightest Glimmer_

_KHR! ( c ) Akira Amano_

**o1. it's in the hoping.**

Gokudera had been against it from the very beginning. That was because gradually, things change and Gokudera, who had once been headstrong or even reckless in situations such as these, had somehow become careful. He'd somehow become doubtful - not of his boss, of course, because if there was one thing that definitely _hadn't_ changed, it was that Gokudera still had boundless faith in Tsuna and in what Tsuna could accomplish. That wasn't it. He had become doubtful of the situation they were in. As a matter of fact, everyone had been against it from the beginning. It was inadvisable, hopeless, and the odds were that it wasn't at all survivable. Then Tsuna had turned to face them and he was so calm, so controlled and so undeniably sure that everybody understood that when Tsuna said everything would be fine, then everything would be fine. Even so, Gokudera couldn't shake that inescapable feeling.

The shape of things were as follows; the Millefiore had successfully began to wipe out the Vongola and negotiations were suddenly in order. Negotiations that, in Gokudera's opinion, had come a little too late and a little too unexpectedly.

Still, Yamamoto would laugh and tell Gokudera to stop worrying which, in turn, would make Gokudera mutter angrily that _some_ things would _never_ change.

"Relax!" Yamamoto would say with what Gokudera described as ridiculous casualness, "Tsuna will be okay - We'll be right there with him and everything will be fine."

"Get real," Gokudera would tut and snap in response, "The Millefiore don't _do_ happy endings."

"No," Tsuna would agree "But the Vongola do."

**o2. are you going to pull me up or drag me down?**

For better or for worse, Tsuna had changed too. He'd become more confident. He had a greater sense of self-preservation. He dealt with a crisis with the perfect execution of his own calm volition. However, some of the little things still remained. The things Reborn would say made Tsuna such a worthwhile pupil. The things that had charmed Haru or intrigued Hibari. The things Gokudera had witnessed either so openly or so privately and had made countless mental notes upon. His ever-polite, ever-pleasing disposition. His often worthless effort to avoid violence whenever possible. His tendency to hesitate. Those little things that piled up together to make up and form who Tsuna was. Those kind of things.

- - -

Eventually, the two of them were left in a secret location. Yamamoto would go on ahead to scope the place and Ryohei would follow in order to back him up. All Gokudera and Tsuna could do was wait for the message. Tsuna had seemed so sure before but watching him from the hideout kitchen as he made drinks, Gokudera wasn't so sure that was the case. You see, Gokudera had consistently studied Tsuna. He'd examined his mannerisms and movements and memorised his speech patterns. Right now, Tsuna stared at the table surface, his brow narrowed tensely, hands clasped tightly in his lap and his lips pursed together crookedly, as if he were nibbling at them nervously from the inside. Gokudera knew what was happening because he'd seen it happen countless times before; each time more bitterly saddening than the last.

"Tenth," he said, making sure to approach his boss gently, "I've brought you some tea."

Tsuna smiled, a tiny rivulet of red at the corner of his mouth from where he'd unintentionally drawn blood, "Thank you,"

Gokudera winced and then sat down at the opposite side of the table from his boss.

Tsuna pulled the cup closer to him and began stirring it, the tiny chime of the spoon hitting the side of the china bluntly echoing in the silence.

"H-hey Tenth," Gokudera began, "We don't have to go if you don't want to. We can call it off. We don't owe th-"

"No," Tsuna said, his voice, Gokudera observed, definitely less calm than it had been before, "I have to do this. For all of us."

Gokudera looked down at the table, forlornly and then Tsuna stood up, his palms flat on the table surface.

"I-" Tsuna continued, his voice growing steadily louder, strangled, younger "I can't _stand _seeing them die. I can't take it. Why - Why can't I take this?"

"Tenth-" Gokudera stood up and tried to interject but Tsuna continued, shaking his head, blinking down hard to stop himself from crying.

"I swore I would never hit breaking point. I _swore_. I know I need to be strong for everybody - reassure them that it's okay. But I just - I don't know _how_ I can make them believe that when I don't believe it myself."

Gokudera clenched his teeth and caught his breath.

"You know," he began, unsure, awkward, honest "I'm often torn having you as a boss, Tenth. I mean - someone like you? To be by your side all the time? To work with you and help protect you? I often can't think of anything better. But then there're the days where you've bitten down your nails and cracked the skin of your fingertips in worry. Mornings when your eyes are sunken and black because you were awake all night. Nights when I hear you quietly cry yourself to sleep. Days like today when you wonder when you're going to die, relive the days when those you've loved have died and you think ... when could it possibly be our turn to go? And I wish that it could be fucking ... _anybody _- anybody but you, but when it comes down to it, I knew this world would be hard for you but I never - _never _believed for a second that it would break you."

And then Tsuna stared at Gokudera for a moment and after the gentlest of brief, sad sighs, he began to laugh, and Gokudera blushed but then allowed himself to laugh too because the truth was they were both thinking it - they were both thinking 'How could he have come up with something so ... _profound _so suddenly?' In the circumstances, it was so laughable and it was ridiculous but it was also oddly beautiful. The kind of beautiful moment that tugs at your heart sweetly and pulls at your eyes until the tears fall. That's how painfully beautiful it was. And if he'd have lived through that day, Tsuna would have let himself cry about it a little. Afterwards and when he was alone and with the eventual coming of dusk.

- - -

It was autumn - the kind of autumn that turned Japan red. There was something harrowing and almost frightening about a sky like that for it would bloom in so many different and seemingly unnatural shades of certain colours. Red and purple. Blue and black. Then, in the afternoon, the moon would rise prematurely and the clouds would look burnt and like they had somehow gotten stuck against the skyline and -

Gokudera would on the right but the bullets would be flying over from the left.

Then -

Gokudera would stop himself because everyone, most especially him, knows how that memory ends.

**o3. something that is all you and you alone.**

This is a different memory under a similar sky. If it were a movie, there would be sickeningly pretentious flashback music playing, or a montage of Gokudera's life unfolding backwards, memories moving rapidly across the screen. Approximately ten years worth of footage and then it stops. The scene begins.

Instead, there is just this.

Namimori gets unbearably hot in the summer. Gokudera takes to balancing fans on stacked piles of books, all different levels so the air rushes out from every possible direction. The air conditioning is broken. It had been for a while. The fans barely cool him and don't so much propel a cold breeze but instead, succeed in merely making the sticky, hot air, trailed-in leaf remnants and crumpled insect wings circulate uselessly around the room. This is when Gokudera thinks that outside couldn't possibly be worse than inside.

So begins the journey to the park - a place, Gokudera convinces himself, where there are trees and therefore there is _shade._ However, Gokudera was wearing his sandals this year, which, coupled with the uncontrollable moisture of summer, created an abundance of tiny blisters. It's summer. Gokudera is irritably hot, bothered and walking on scorched concrete in bare feet. Now, he muses, would not be a good time for any 'idiot fucking assassins and any of their bullshit' but it would be an _incredibly_ good time for a cigarette.

Summer wasn't at all agreeing with Tsuna this year, either. The insane amount of heat was enough to make anybody miserable but Tsuna was also suddenly a victim of summer allergies and insects, those that could bite or sting in particular, had become unexpectedly ardent admirers or Tsuna and he was beginning to think this was some sort of outrageous summer training programme thought up by Reborn.

Tsuna haphazardly wandered through the park when he saw Gokudera swaying on one of the swings, one arm coiled around the chain, the other drawing a cigarette to and from his mouth.

"Gokudera-kun-" Tsuna called, his greeting cut short when a congregation of wasps decided to demonstrate their affection for him.

"Tenth?" Gokudera shouted , immediately getting up off the swing and beginning to dash across the park, "What's the matter?"

"W-wasps!" Tsuna shouted back at him, swatting at his now hostile visitors with zero regard for aim.

"Wasps?" Gokudera repeated, his hands going for the dynamite and igniting it quickly - skillfully.

Tsuna batted his arms wildly in the air and began running towards Gokudera, aiming to outrun them and therefore lose their interest - a plan that to his surprise, actually worked.

"Don't worry Tenth!" Gokudera shouted, pulling his arms back and getting ready to throw.

"No! Gokudera-kun! It's okay! I've-" Tsuna protested but Gokudera was already in his response-to-threats-towards-the-tenth mode and steadily getting closer.

Tsuna winced and outstretched his arms, catching Gokudera's wrists gently. Gokudera stopped at the touch and watched with fascination as Tsuna bent down, calmly blew out the ignition of the dynamite and applied pressure to the string, wincing at the heat.

"Tenth?" Gokudera began and Tsuna slowly let go of his wrists and smiled.

"T-thank you for trying to help me" Tsuna said, "But they're gone now so you can-"

"Put this away?" Gokudera nodded, "No problem, Tenth!"

Tsuna sighed and laughed, his tone full of relief and Gokudera would have scolded himself for being so reckless around the Tenth if he didn't look so cute when he was pleased. So Gokudera remained silent and smiled back at Tsuna and the anger that had stirred in him earlier began to calm and disappear until he could no longer remember what had irritated him in the first place.

- - -

See, once you light a bomb, it's pretty much impossible to stop it from exploding unless the time and effort is taken to extinguish the flame that ignited it in the first place. If you don't put it out, the bomb goes 'boom' - that's just the way it is. In some ways, the same could be said of people. Sometimes, something can happen - something traumatic, something infuriating, something asphyxiating. That's just the starting point. The pain will grow and grow until the person can't take it no more - the ignition has worn them down; they're ready to explode. 'Boom'. There it is. The big finale. That is, unless someone comes along who can make the pain disappear. Someone to calm the flicker of flame and stop it reaching that point when things begin to explode. To extinguish it and to make everything okay again. But what happens then? Gokudera can't really say yet.

**o4. like smoke in the damp winter air.**

The memory is important to Gokudera because of two undeniable things - time flows and things change. Gokudera stands by the fact a trace of Tsuna still resides in his memory - a glimmer forever blinking between the states of being like the ignition on that dynamite years blown out. Most days, it's bright and wonderfully clear - and then there are moments when it doesn't so much shine, but crumble, bludgeoned only by time and the sweet sadness of remembering. The point, Gokudera insists, is that it'll never go out, because, for it to be blown out would mean that it's gone and if it's gone? Then absolutely everything is gone.

- - -

It's almost winter, and the coffin lid is open and Gokudera remembers something that he _should_ have recalled above all things, above all the things that had changed, above the vivid memory of that red day back in autumn and above summers long since past - he should have remembered that the Vongola only deal in happy endings.


End file.
